From The Young Justice Archives
by Frozencake
Summary: Drabble fic about different events regarding our favorite team of superheroes and the shenanigans they get involved in as a team or by themselves, or even in random pairings. Takes place in random times, and will have events from, before, and after the time jump. Prompts accepted.
1. Chapter 1

**BOO! Bet you didn't expect this lunatic to return with another questionably readable piece of supposed work. Here's the first chapter.**

**Prompt:** The boys have girl problems, so they go to Kaldur for help. Kaldur is 16. Robin and Zatanna are 13. Wally and Artemis are 15. Conner and M'gann are 16, by earth years, at least. Takes place during Team Year 1.

**Submitted By: **Me, the unbelievable awesome gender-nuetral, age-nuetral, species-nuetral, race-neutral Frozencake!

* * *

**Kaldur'ahm The Matchmaker**

Kaldur sat at the desk in his room, seemingly infatutated with the book he was reading. He had fallen behind in his studies from Atlantis, and has brought some lessons with him to rediscover some of his old passion.

"Hey Kaldur."

Kaldur jumped in reflexive shock at the voice, but due to the seated nature of his body, he ended up tossing his lamp over the desk and falling backwards in his chair, shattering the light bulb and bumping his head against the floor.

Groaning, it took a few moments before his vision cleared, and the familiar frame of a sunglasses-wearing thirteen year old boy came into view.

"Wow. I didn't think you would scare that easily. I mean, geez, you broke the lamp!" gestured Robin

Kaldur rolled off the chair and got onto his feet.

"Robin, I have discussed the matter of privacy and manners with you before. I would appreciate it if you knocked on my door rather than entering silently."

"Fine. But sneaking into your room helps sharpen your observational skills, which, you obviously need to work on."

"_Robin."_

"But-"

"Please. I need to study."

"But I need your help!" pouted the younger teen.

"With what?"

"Well...it's...you know.." mumbled Robin, twisting his hands around.

"It's what? Is this some sort of observational test?" asked Kaldur, growing irritated. In his defense, it was past 10 P.M, and he'd been studying for the last three hours.

"No, no. I-my friend, is just having trouble, with you know...girls and stuff." answered Robin, barely whispering the last part.

Kaldur blinked for a moment, causing Robin's cheeks to blush.

"You know what, never mind. I can just-"

"No, no. I am honored you thought me wise enough to consult on such important matters."

"Well, really, the only other alternatives are Conner and Wally, and both are utterly horrible when it comes to women. And I'm _not_ having another talk with Batman about women and stuff." replied Robin, shuddering at the memory of the last part.

"Well, I am still honored nonetheless. Out of the entire hero community, and even those you know personally-"

"Hero community? Please. Anyone other than Black Canary would rat me out sooner or later to Batman, and I'm _not_ speaking about women to Black Canary. God knows what she might pass on to Green Arrow, and boy does he have a mouth on him. I mean, the guy will spill his guts-"

"_Robin._" said Kaldur, interrupting another one of Robin's analytical rants.

"Right. Well, anyway...say there's this girl...and let's just say I, my friend, happens to like her. Or at least, I think she likes m-my friend. The problem is, they kind of have trust issues over my ah secret id,err, ex-girlfriend. She doesn't say it but she thinks he don't trust her enough, and that's kind of putting a hamper in their relationship. Which isn't even a relationship. Because those trust issues just keep getting in the way, and it's just so-ugh!"

Kaldur put his seat back up, and sat down in it once more as his friend spoke. When Robin stopped, Kaldur scrunched his brows in deep thought, remaining like this for nearly a minute before speaking. He needed to answer this delicately, without revealing he knew exactly whom and what he knew Robin was speaking off.

"Trust is an important part of every relationship, but at such young ages, we cannot overthink everything too much. Has your friend actually asked her about her opinion?"

Robin blinked.

"Oh...he ah..no, I don't think he did."

"Then that's where he should start."

Suddenly, Robin's dopey grin was back on his face as the cogs started to spin his brain.

"Thanks Kaldur! This helps a lot. With my friend, of course."

"Of course." replied Kaldur as Robin exited the room.

Shaking his head, Kaldur knelt down to start fixing his broken lamp.

* * *

Kaldur awoke the next morning to the sound of his lamp falling over, and it's replacement light bulb breaking. _Again._

Immediately alert, he jumped off the bed into fighting pose, inadvertently tripping over the speedster that was literally zig sagging across the room.

Wally tripped and skidded right into the wall, less than a foot away from the sliding doors that would have opened up for him, and saved his face and ego.

"Oooowww." he moaned, rubbing his chin as he got up.

"I apologize Wally, but you had startled me. I would appreciate it if you knocked before running haphazardly around my room."

"Right. Sorry." mumbled the speedster.

"Is there any particular reason you were running haphazardly in my room, at an hour at which you are usually asleep?" asked Kaldur, noticing the time was 6:30. Wally was almost never up until 8:15, at least, not when school was out.

"Sorry, but I needed to speak to you before everyone else was up and about, their prying ears listening in to our conversation."

Sighing, Kaldur mentally pushed himself to forget about his sleepiness and help his teammate with whatever trouble he had gotten himself into.

"And what, exactly, would require such secrecy?"

"Artemis. Ar-te-friggin'-mis. Artie Warty. _That's _what!" exclaimed Wally

Kaldur mentally facepalmed. There was no way this wasn't related to last night's conversation with Robin.

"What about her?"

"She's so annoying! She's always in my face, and saying stuff, and just being there! I mean, she just has to contradict everything I say and fight me every step of the way, -hey that rhymed-, and she's always got to try and beat me at stuff. Beat me at training, beat me at food eating contests, although _I_ won that one, beat me at cart racing, beat me at video games, I mean really? And she just get's under my skin! I mean, _I can't stop thinking about her!_"

"I see."

Silence followed as Wally panted form his rant and slumped against the floor, while Kaldur stood their with a raised eyebrow.

"What?"

"You admitted that you cannot keep Artemis out of your thoughts."

"So? She's an annoying harpy."

"Ah, but Robin also tries to beat you at all those things, and has at many. Robin has also often contradicted you, and he is always, as you say, 'saying stuff, and just being there', is he not?"

"Yeah, but he's a guy! It's different!"

"How so?"

"Robin doesn't have flaxen blonde hair, and steely grey orbs for eyes, and a perfect girl stomach, and boobs!" exclaimed Wally

"Mhmm." said Kaldur, ignoring the last comment for the sake of the conversation.

"_What?_ Why do you keep looking at me like that?!"

"Wally, think back about what you just said. About this entire conversation. And then go to Artemis. For the sake of your sanity and hers."

"Why would I go to Artemis? What does that have to do with-..."

Wally's eyes widened as his brain finally caught up with the turn of the conversation.

"What! No. _No!_ I won't believe it! I can't believe it!" he protested, seemingly to himself.

"It just..no. I cant...argh! What the hell was I thinking, listening to Robin! How you're responsible for him planning a breakfast picnic with Zatanna on the beach eludes me! It eludes me I say!" said the speedster, already storming out of the room, but sub-consciously headed for Artemis's room.

The heart wants what the heart wants.

Kaldur just shook his head as the doors shut behind Wally. Turning back to his once again smashed lamp, he seriously pondered throwing it. Why make it suffer?

* * *

The rest of the day was eerily quiet all the way into the afternoon, as with Zatanna and Robin apparently hanging out somewhere, and Wally and Artemis mysteriously disappearing after a rather large shouting match over something involving "crazy hormones" and "exploding bees". Frankly, Kaldur did not mind the peaceful quiet that had dawned on the cave. M'gann was in the kitchen making what she called "about a tenth of a metric ton of cookies, shaped like Batman!"

Conner was no doubt watching his favorite channel, which had now been dubbed, "The Static Program" by the rest of the team. Aside from Kaldur, of course. He was far too respectable for that.

Kaldur himself was planning on catching up on his studies. Or at least he was, until he found himself face to face with Superboy. Holding the remnants of what was his door.

"Conner?"

"The door wouldn't open." he grunted in reply

"It was locked."

"It isn't anymore."

Yes, Conner was still working on "expressing his emotions", as Black Canary called it.

"Is there a reason you needed to open it?"

"I was looking for you."

"Because?"

"I needed help."

Yes, Conner was also working on dialogue, as well.

"I assume this is about M'gann." replied Kaldur, his statement causing Conner's eyes to widen a little.

"Yes, how did you-"

"Flowers. Flowers and maybe some episodes of Hello Megan. In fact, she'd probably love to watch it with you and eat some of those cookies she makes."

"Wha-"

"Or candy. Or a stroll on the beach. Or anything sweet really. M'gann is easy to please."

"Um, thanks?" replied Conner, confused.

"You are welcome, friend. Enjoy."

With that, Kaldur picked up the bent and twisted remnants of his door, and placed it so that it would obstruct his doorway. Mostly.

He was going to need to ask Batman for a replacement door. And a better lock.

* * *

**Aww. Poor Kaldur. Anyway, R&R people, it makes my day, and I can make yours if you leave a prompt. Rating appropriate, of course.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chappie 2 is here. Read. Review. No requests(*crying*), so my mind was forced to think of something. And yeah, Roy's a team member in this fic.**

**Prompt: **Batman gives the team a car, but lets them decide who gets to be the designated drive. Chaos ensues. Team Year 1, Roy is 17, Kaldur, Conner, M'gann, Wally, and Artemis are 16, and Robin and Zatanna are 13.

* * *

**SUV Fever**

"What's going on?" asked Artemis to Kaldur, the two running side by side down the hallway to the garage, where an emergency alarm had gone off.

"I do not know, but I hope our friends are ok." he replied, stoically.

The two turn around the corner, only to see Conner smash through the entrance to the garage, followed by Robin, Roy, Wally, and Artemis. Bows, batarangs, fists, and water swords drawn, the team jumped into various attack poses, immediately assessing the threat.

What they saw was Batman ending the timer on his wrist computer. But what really shocked them was the fact that he was leaning against an SUV. That had not been there this morning when the aforementioned Dark Knight had them scrub the entire garage clean as a punishment for acts they'd rather not remember.

"Thirty-three point twelve seconds. That's sloppy. In that time, I could have disabled the electric grid and forced my way into the weapons vault, arming myself to the teeth and making it a thousand times harder for any of you to stop me, should I have been a villain."

Artemis and Roy sheathed their arrows and shouldered their bows, looking pissed that their time had been wasted on another one of Batman's paranoia fueled tests. Robin looked sheepish, while M'gann actually looked guilty and shamed, her head bowed down as she stared at the floor. Conner, in his typical form, mere grunted and crossed his arms, the glare from before still on his face.

Wally however, immediately zipped over to the vehicle behind Batman, checking out its "specs" as he propped open the hood, looked in the trunk, and opened various doors.

"Ohmaigawditsfourwheeldriveandjustsoaweomeandohmygawdthatenginearethoseleatherseatsisthatastereoandare-"

Wally's unintelligible speed rant was cut short when Batman stuck his arm out in a stiff pose, and Wally run straight into it, the impact throwing him flat on his back.

"Smooth Baywatch. Real smooth." muttered Artemis, while Wally just glared at her as she got up.

Batman stood aside, allowing the team to get a clear view of the car.

It was glorious. Beautiful. _Breathtaking._

Wally was practically drooling at the machine, and it took all of Roy and Artemis's willpower not to do the same. Robin looked indifferent. The garage at the Wayne Manor _literally_ had more than two million dollar's worth of cars. And it only had four cars.

That didn't even include the Batmobile and other expensive Bat vehicles in the Batcave.

The teen's train of thoughts were broken by Batman's voice.

"This vehicle is assigned to the team, and you will use to for your personal group activities. M'gann, I am told you already know how to drive, so you will take yourself and Conner to school in this vehicle. The rest of the time, members of the team with driving liscenses-" Batman glared especially hard at Robin, who returned to his sheepish expression.

"-Will be allowed to use the car for team group activities and such."

Batman barely finished his sentence before Wally was in the driver's seat. Roy soon arrived at the driver's door, and yanked it open, attempting to shove the speedster out. Artemis soon followed, grabbing both Wally and Roy, but the three soon found themselves in a tugging stalemate.

Robin smirked at the sight, and Kaldur sighed out of either sympathy or frustration. One could never tell. Conner just grunted and walked out through the hole I the entrance head created, followed by M'gann, who was already planning a re-run marathon of Star Trek.

pent a good fifteen minutes ogling the black, state of the art, newest model, all terrain 4 Wheel drive SUV that the team had just been "en given. All courtesy of Batman. But of course, there was a catch. There was always a catch.

"Get. Off. Baywatch!"

"No!"

"Batman, tell these children I'm the one whose supposed to drive!"

"Children? I have a license too Roy, although I'm sure Kid Idiot here has a fake one."

"If anyone is a fraud, it's you harpy."

"Dammit Batman tell them-"

"I will not be involved in this fight. The three of you will sort out the driver, but said driver will become the designated driver, and will be in charge of the car. "

With that, Batman turned around walked out of the garage, disappearing into the shadows and somehow exiting the Mount.

Artemis, Wally, and Roy turned to one another, glares intent. This was no longer a fight to be the first to drive the car. It was a fight _for_ the car. At least, in their eyes.

Robin had an ever so large grin on his face as he began to eat the popcorn that he somehow procured out of nowhere.

This was going to be good.

* * *

Bruce Wayne sipped a cup of rather strong coffee has he opened the next edition of the Gotham Gazette. He was sore from last night's patrol and not in a mood to answer the phone when it rang next to him, but he did anyway.

"Hello?" he asked, in a gruff voice.

"H-hey Bats..." started the nervous voice of Roy, immediately setting off alarms in Bruce's head.

"What happened?" Bruce asked, opening the gazette.

"Just a, ah, minor problem with the car."

"Minor?" asked Bruce, his voice a note higher than before as he read the headlines.

UNKOWN TEENS CRASH SUV INTO ABANDONED WAREHOUSE

Someone was going to pay dearly for this.

* * *

**Read and Review. Makes my day. :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Yada yada. I forgot to mention the disclaimer. I don't own Young Justice etc etc.**

**Prompt: **Roy/Wally/Dick bro bonding 7 Daddy!Bats, requested by IsaBean!

Everyone is their Team Year 1 age(same as last chapter).

Roy is 13, Wally 11, and Dick 9. Dick just became Robin, Roy has been Speedy for a some time, and Wally isn't Kid Flash. Batman doesn't even know Flash is Barry Allen yet.

* * *

**Origins of The Troublesome Trio**

Alfred drove the limo past the Queen Estate gates, up to Oliver Queen's household. Bruce was in the back with Rickard, his new ward from a few months ago. The boy had been through a lot, and Bruce knew he wasn't exactly the best father material there was. However, Rickard, or Dick, as he liked to be called, had just become Robin, and Bruce (cough Alfred cough) thought it would be a good idea for the boy to get some proper social interaction. So far, he'd been homeschooled, tutored English and academics by the all-knowing Alfred, and the only other child his age that he really hung out with was the commissioner's daughter Barbra Gordon.

Alfred quipped that it was a sign that "Master Dick will become as popular with the female population as his father", something that hit Bruce hard in two different parts of his heart. One was the mushy happy part that he didn't know he had until he'd adopted Dick. The night before Alfred had made that comment, Dick had a nightmare again and slept with Bruce, but called him "Dad." Bruce hadn't been sure if it had been a slip of the tongue or the utterings of a scared and slightly feverish child, and tried to forget it, but he couldn't, and that irked him to no ends.

The second spot was his overprotective side, which he was also unaware of in regards to anyone other than Alfred, until he adopted Dick. There was no way he was letting his boy end up in the same never-ending cycle of airhead women that he had somehow ended up in. He would rather paint the Batmobile pink than allow that to happen. In fact, he was nauseated at the thought of Dick even around women. This Gordon girl could be a problem.

"Bwuce! Bwuce! Come on, we're here!" exclaimed Dick, practically jumping up and down in his seat. The boy was learning English but he still had a lisp when he got excited, nervous, or sad. However, Bruce was starting to have suspicions that Alfred was teaching him how to utilize its explosive full potential with a pout, as he had found out first hand yesterday, when he had refused to give the boy a fifth cookie.

"Alright, alright! Let's go see Oliver."

"Uncle Oliver is almost as fun as Uncle Sup-Clark! And Woy and Wally are even more fun!"

Bruce mentally reminded himself to ruin Clark's coffee the next time he came to Wayne Manor, already calculating ways to circumvent Alfred's all seeing eye. That Super-Douche had no business being ranked _even near_ the awesomness of Batman. Not in the eyes of Dick.

The two got out of the car and walked up to the door.

This trip would have him see Roy, a.k.a Speedy, once again. Somehow, Dick had won over the moody and rebellious teen. Also joining them would be some civilian named Wally, whom Roy knew, and Dick liked immensely. Bruce had already done a full background check on this Wally and his entire family. The boy was related to some god awful shmuck named Barry Allen who was apparently responsible for nearly destroying a Central City Police Department Lab a while back. The shmuck. Shmuck was a word Bruce had suddenly found himself saying often after Dick picked it up from tv. Yes, Bruce Wayne was going to fully investigate this shmuck, and maybe Batman would visit him at night if necessary.

"Uncle Oliver!" shouted Dick, running into Oliver Queen's Arms.

"Woah! Good to see you too buddy!" replied Oliver, smiling as he picked up Dick and put him in the air, before bringing him down.

"I can see why you've had a spring in your step nowadays, eh Bruce?" quipped Oliver

"Can it Queen." replied Bruce, already ticked off at the sight of his _son_ hugging Queen.

"Right. Anyway, Roy and Wally are upst-"

Dick was already bounding off before the sentence could be finished.

"-airs."

A short silence followed as the two senior heroes stared at one another. Or rather, as Bruce glared at Oliver, and Oliver nonchalantly viewed a painting on the wall.

"You know, if so much as a single hair is touched on my boy, I'll-"

"Dismember me, ruin me, make my life a living nightmare. Yada yada. We've been over this, now go have fun! Skiddaddle!" shooed Oliver, hastily pushing Bruce out of the house.

* * *

"Soo, what do you want to do?" asked Roy. He was taller and bulkier than the others, but still relatively skinny, given his young age. Right now he was wearing a shit with the words "Up Yours" plastered in Neon Orange all over the front and back. It just about summed up his general attitude towards the world.

"I dunno. What do you want to do Dick?" asked Wally, eating popcorn.

"I dunno. What does that shirt mean? 'Up Yours?'"

"It's a metaphorical meaning. The literal meaning is bascically telling someone to shove whatever problem they have up their ass." replied Roy, gazing at the Queen Lake on the horizon. It was more of a big pond than a lake really, and who names a pond after themselves? The greedy idiot should have named it Harper Lake, or Roy's Pond, or some such think. Made much more sense, really, at least in Roy's mind.

"What's ass?" asked Robin, confused with his first encounter with a swear word. Somehow, while beating up thugs in the most crime infested city in the middle of the night, he hadn't learned any. It was something just short of miracle.

"It's another word for someone's butt."

"So they would shove something up their butt? Wow. That has to hurt."

Wally started choking on his popcorn, suddenly realizing the conversation that just happened was not merely a figment of his imagination.

Dick grabbed him and started giving him the Heimlich.

"Wally! Wally! Woy, help me!" exclaimed Dick, genuinely nervous, causing his lisp to return.

It took all of Roy's willpower not to slap both of the boys. "Anger management" Oliver told him.

And that's when Wally puked on his bed.

"Wallace Rudolph West. You have roughly fifteen seconds to start running. In those fifteen seconds, I am going to get out some particularly evil and long lasting stink and paint arrows. And you will die."

Anger management. Right.

* * *

When Bruce returned that evening, Oliver was scolding Roy for something, while Wally was in far corner of the lawn, in a tomato filled bathtub. Dick was sitting under the shade of a tree, a big fat smile on his paint covered face, while Alfred, whose clothing was as impeccably organized and neat as it was before, stood stoically, watching over him.

Staff members moved in and out of the house with perfumes pressed to their noses and some even wearing masks. And then the smell hit Bruce, and it got stronger and stronger as he neared the house. It was barely tolerable as he walked up to Oliver, and he didn't even want to think about how the inside smelled.

"What happened here Queen?" asked Bruce menacingly.

Oliver whipped around, his face red from the smell and his talk with Roy

"The boys got a little carried away, as you can see..."

"And?"

"Well, Roy got into some stink arrows of his, that were pretty strong..."

"How strong?"

"Well, the 'make a person drop unconscious' kind of strong. But don't worry it's-"

Oliver's sentence was cut short when Bruce's fist connected to his jaw.

* * *

"Sleep tight." whispered Bruce, pulling the blankets over Dick at his bed in the manor. It was late, and it had taken an entire three movie marathon before Dick had calmed down from his adventures to go to sleep.

"Night Tati." mumbled the boy, causing Bruce to smile.

Rubbing black eye, he wandered down to the Batcave. Queen had retaliated, as most sensible people would do, after being socked across the jaw, and Bruce discovered that the man actually had some strength in those arms. He would've hit back, but Alfred stopped the both of them, and then proceeded to chastise them like children, in front of actual children.

Stopping before the Batsuit, he remember that he promised Dick he wouldn't go on patrol tonight. He had only lied to the boy about that once since he found out about Batman, and when he returned, he saw a bleary eyed Dick and an exceptionally withering look from Alfred. Apparently Dick had a nightmare, and upon finding Bruce's bed haphazardly messy and completely empty, he had panicked and thoroughly freaked out, believing he was in another nightmare where Bruce had been kidnapped or murdered, or some such thing. He slept with the boy until lunch that day, and the two ate in a tent in the living room.

Going back upstairs and smiling at the last part of that memory, he decided patrol could wait.

And so could that Allen shmuck. But not for long. You can never waste time when dealing with shmuck.

* * *

**Hee hee.**


	4. Chapter 4

**I apologize in advance for any grammar mistakes. Too lazy to use a Beta and not good enough at catching my own mistakes. .**

**Prompt: **Through a series of misunderstandings and slightly insane Archers, M'gann discoveres the world of tickle-fighting. Submitted by ArtemisBAMF1218

Team Year 2, Robin & Zatanna are 14, Artemis & Wally 17, Kaldur 18, and Roy is 19.

* * *

**Fast Hands**

"Oh! Aha! Ahahah!"

M'gann stopped outside Robin's door at the sound of...laughter. Genuine laughter, that wasn't coming from Wally or Zatanna. This was extremely puzzling, as, despite being on the team for nearly a year now, M'gann hadn't heard Robin laugh instead of cackle, ever. And she knew the laughter didn't belong to Roy, Artemis, or Conner either.

No, this, this was too..._manly._ It was a deeper laugh, much like Roy's, but stronger. Which could only mean one of two things: Robin was truly a mini-midget man hiding under the guise of his teenage like body (as Wally had so informatively told her the other day), or there was an intruder in Robin's room. It couldn't be a Justice League mentor, as she had been in the kitchen all morning and there was no way anyone could have Zeta'd in without her hearing. Which begged the question, how did this intruder get in? (Assuming, from one of her ever so helpful "girl talks" with Artemis and Zatanna, that Wally was joking, or as Artemis called it "Being Kid Idiot")

Tensing for battle, she mentally broke down the door to Robin's room, preparing for an intensive fight for whichever super-villain had managed to escape past Mount Justice's "asterous" security system, and break into _Robin's_ room.

But what she saw was far more disturbing.

It was Robin. On top of Batman. Doing something with his fingers. Whatever it was, it had the Dark Knight _laughing_, until roughly 0.03 seconds after she broke down the door, during which the two automatically whipped out batarangs and got into fighting stances.

"Wha-M'gann?" asked Robin, confused.

"Miss Martian. Explain yourself." probed Batman, returning to his normal "Fear me" monotone voice.

"I-I-I thought Robin was in danger-How did you even get here? I was by the Zeta Tubes all day, and where you just laughing? What was that thing that Robin was doing with his hands?" asked M'gann, questions pouring out nervously.

Batman stiffened.

_Blast it. She heard._

"It was a training exercise." said Robin, finding his voice and saving his mentor

"Training? What you guys were doing sounded a little fun for training."

"It's only fun at the beginning. It's really a training exercise to gain resistance to a horrible interrogation tactic employed by many villains around the world." continued Batman lying straight through his perfectly white teeth.

"Really?" asked M'gann, believing every word of this fabricated story.

"Really. I'm sure Canary will bring it up sooner or later in training, but you need not worry. The others have been trained on it properly. Just don't bring it up with them, they like to keep these type of things private. It's an earth thing." finished Robin, lying in sync with Batman.

_The Dynamic Duo indeed._

"Oh-Ok. I-I'll just leave then."

M'gann left the room meekly, embarrassed and confused. She returned to her usual stress/confusion/sadness/anger-fixer: baking. Which also happened to be her favorite happy/joyous/excited activity.

Meanwhile, murdering an enhanced "Superboy only" tougher-than-concrete punching bag, Conner suddenly hear a roaring burst of laughter from what sounded like Robin and some other man.

He just punched harder.

* * *

M'gann was at work, furiously mixing out a batter at work mix, when Roy walked in, groggy from just waking up despite the fact that it was already half past noon.

"Uh, hey Roy." said M'gann, stopping her work nervously. Roy was never in a good mood when he just woke up.

"Grr." he growled. If one had super-accurate hearing, they might have hear what slightly resembled a "hi" somewhere in there.

Roy reached for the pot of coffee that everyone, including Robin, knew not to touch. Not after the last time Roy had done a 96 hour stakeout straight in what he called "the worst stakeout position, _ever_", only to be told later that Oliver had screwed up his directions, and not only was he in the wrong place, but the villain had been put in custody an hour before he even started his stakeout. When he'd returned to Mount Justice that night blood shot and carrying what resembled a horribly mutilated Green Arrow plushie, only to find that some "_motherf-ing goddamn sumofabiyach drank my goddamn friggin' coffee that had my goddamn name on it"..._And that was just yesterday.

M'gann shuddered at the unusual brutality at which he had hunted down the culprits: His fellow brothers, Wally and Robin.

Roy plopped down on a stool and began noisily slurping his lukewarm coffee directly from the container.

"You're not going to use a cup?"

"Wusses use cups. Wusses like Oliver. Ask me when's the last time I saw Dinah use a cup? ASK ME! Never. That's when. Because she doesn't drink coffee. Only people stuck with wrong directions given by a wuss who drank coffee. Like Oliver."

"O.k..." answered M'gann, wary at the slight note of hysteria that was creeping into Roy's voice. It was all too familiar to the voice he had been using yesterday. And that was what he sounded like _before_ he had discovered the missing coffee.

Silence ensued as M'gann just stood there, watching Roy noisily slurp his coffee.

Finally, he stopped and turned to M'gann, with a gruff "What?"

"Oh nothing...just..."

"Speak damn it! Is it Oliver! Is HE here? Just point me in the direction!"

"Ah, no, not that."

"Oh, come on! Did Dinah get to you? She's lying! I only shaved off part of his head! I didn't even get started on his beard, and there was no way I drew any blood when I punched that one time. Or two."

"Ah...you know what, I think I'll just go...somewhere." said M'gann, carefully walking out of the kitchen as Oliver's right eye started to twitch.

She obviously needed to go to an expert.

* * *

"Well, I'm here."

"Yes, thanks for coming Black Canary. This is important."

"What's wrong M'gann? Is it Roy? I swear, Oliver really messed up, _just_ when I was making progress with those two." said Canary, obviously angry at Oliver.

"No no. Well, yes, but not really. He's a little off-putting to be around right now, but my main concern is about torture."

"Torture?"

"Yes. This morning I br-err, walked into Robin's room discovered him straddling Batman and running his hands over his chest and abdomen-"

"_What?" _asked Canary, a look of shock on her face.

"Yes. Anyway, Batman cleared it all up. He said it was just training for some torture method that the other teammates already knew about. He also said not to mention it to anyone, ever."

"Did he now?" asked Canary, gritting her teeth. M'gann seemed oblivious to how what she was saying sounded.

"Yes. So, about this torture thing-"

"Just give me a moment. I need to call Superman down here. We might need him."

"For the training?" asked M'gann as Canary got up.

"No-" began Canary, a dangerous glint in her eyes.

"-To have a _talk_ with Batman."

* * *

Needless to say, it had been a rather awkward day. It took a few hours, a small shouting match between Canary and Batman, a very embarrassed Robin, a Canary slap to a Roy pestering her for the location of Oliver, and some curious teammates before M'gann was _finally_ told that what she had witness was not a torture method, but rather a "tickle-fight."

It took a moment for the information to sink in, before she asked "What's a tickle-fight?"

This prompted a whole other discussion about best methods of tickle fights, who was responsible for teaching M'gann such simple earth stuff, whether or not Batman can actually laugh or is using a voice modifier, and how Batman needs to stop making himself look so scary because this is the _fifth time _Canary has had to deal with someone catching him being fatherly only for him to make it sound twisted and wrong and spread panic. _Fifth._

And she wasn't even going to speak about that one time J'onn had found Batman and Robin in nothing but boxers and cowls, doing a pillow fight, which they then passed off as part of a complex nerve gas defense method. The entire Watchtower was shutdown that day and quarantined for a week before she had figured out what really happened. And Batman, the self-righteous prick that he was, had told her to "prove it." _God._

After the chaos of the day subdued, and M'gann was fully brief on tickle fights, Canary pulled Batman aside once more to "speak."

The next day, only Robin noticed that Batman had a limp.

* * *

**Da da dum. Don't know if I did this prompt justice (no tickle fights, lol), but eh. Onwards!**


	5. Happy Beans

**...I have no excuse for my lazy lack of updates. Forgive my grammar mistakes.**

**Prompt:** Dick discovers coffee. And then introduces it to Wally.

Dick is 9 and Wally is 11. The boys have both taken up their respective roles of Robin and Kid Flash, albeit recently. They know each other's secret identities.

* * *

**Happy Beans**

The Wayne Manor was in a scene of tranquility. A father, happily seated by the warm fireplace in the living room of a vast mansion. His young son, on his lap listening intently to the storybook. True happiness.

"And that's when the magical elves-"

Bruce grunted as the doorbell rang in the middle of the story, ending his moment with his son. Dick happily shoved the book away and jumped off his surrogate father's lap, racing towards the door to beat Alfred to it. After all, there was no way Alfred could traverse two floors and half the mansion from the hall he was dusting a mere four minutes ago, in the time it took Dick to get from his spot on the couch roughly forty-five yards away from the house (the boy had measured; Bruce daring him to prove Alfred wasn't a demi-god didn't help).

So it was no wonder Dick stopped and gasped in shock as he saw Alfred, in his perfect (possibly Demi-godly?) clothes, with not a single graying hair out of place, leading in an already jittery Wallace West, the both of them already halfway.

"Ah, Master Richard, so nice of you to finally join us." there was an under-lining tone of mockery, but Dick was too excited to notice it.

"Dick!" exclaimed Wally, speeding (literally) to Dick

"Wa-oof!" exclaimed Dick as Wally sped into him uncontrollably, sending the both of them skidding onto the floor, stopping several feet away at the feet a taller man.

The two untangled themselves

"Guess I still need to work out my brakes and stu-" Wally stopped and visibly paled, his lovable lopsided grin wiped clean off his face, as he looked up saw the Wayne-glare, which was almost as bad as the Bat-glare.

"If you're interested in creating roadkill, I suggest you use something other than Dick.?"

"I-I..M-Bat-Sir, Wayne..."

"_Master Wayne_. I do believe you have something more important than terrorizing young boys. Something along the lines of appearing at your own multi-million dollar charity gala. Or at least, I would hope that holds precedence."

There was the sarcasam and mockery, although if you looked at the man's straight poker-face, you would be hard-pressed to believe he was dead serious.

Bruce grumbled and shot one last glare towards Wally, causing the boy to shrivel even more.

"Fine. But Alfred, I expect you to keep a close on eye on these boys."

"Of course sir." replied Alfred, not intending to even try to do so. Because he knew for a fact that Bruce had left, not one, but three pots of coffee in the kitchen, despite his explicit reminders that Dick could find the coffee, and that a nine year old boy full of coffee would be worse than a living nightmare. But no, Bruce had to ignore him and argue that he "needed his coffee to keep him going", which of course would start another argument about sustenance, patrol, and rest.

So, Alfred once again decided to dutifully exercise his role as Bruce's surrogate father, and thus _teach_ him an important life lesson about coffee, children, and listening to Alfred.

And he did so by immediately directing the boys to the kitchen the minute Bruce closed the door behind him.

"Off you goy boys. There's some fresh cookies in the kitchen, awaiting your arrival."

The boys grinned. Alfred grinned. Sugar and caffeine would make the situation even worse.

"Oh, and boys, remember not to touch the coffee."

"We won't."

Alfred knew they were lying. The sad part was, the boys had no clue they were going to break their word. The naivety of youngsters.

* * *

"It smells...sooo good." said Wally, inhaling a good whiff of the freshest pot of coffee. They had just eaten three trays of cookies(most of them devoured by the young speedster), and the sugar was just starting to go their brain.

"Yeah...but, were not supposed to touch them." said Dick, inhaling his own whiff of the "good stuff", as Bruce affectionally called it.

"But...why not?" Another whiff.

"Bruce says that it's made from 'magical beans' that will hurt kids..." More whiffing

"Magical beans?" Nose senses galore

"Yeah. But...that was a long time ago. Like...last week." Two whiffs.

"Yeah. We're not kids anymore...right?" Whiiiiff.

"Right."

At this point the two looked at each other from the corner of their eyes, and then lunged for the coffee.

* * *

"Happy Beans. Happy Beans. I love my Happy Beans!" sang Dick, making sheet angels on Bruce's master bed. All around him, coffee powder was spread on the silk sheets, mingling underneath the sheets and onto the smooth bed surface, as well as falling onto the floor, staining the perfect imported carpet.

Bruce gazed down, and saw a trail of coffee on the carpeted floor. _His perfect floor._ If he'd followed the trail, he would have seen it leading to the window, something that would have put him on high alert and cause his heart rate to spike. But at that moment, a large noise, one that heavily resembled that of a bunch of smashing vases, could be heard.

Growling, Bruce turned around to investigate the cause of the noise, which he had no doubt was Wally. Sure enough, as he arrived in the Main Corridor, he saw a blur of red and orange whizzing up, down, left, right, and every other possible direction. The boy was literally bouncing off the walls, and the second he saw Bruce and the very angry scowl on his face, his mouth was soon bouncing along with him as he tried to string two coherent thoughts together. Unfortunately, such coherency is not possible for an eleven year old speedster who has not only failed to master speed talking, but has also had far too much coffee.

"OHIMISTERWAYNESOGOODCOFFEECANTSTOPRUNNINGLOVEYOURHAPPYBEANSDICKISFUNTHISHALLWAYSISSOLONGSPEEDSPEEDSPEEDHAAAPPPYBEEAAANS"

That's when it hit him. Coffee. Kid. Alfred.

_I really need to find a better butler._

But Bruce knew, even as he that thought went through his mind, that doing so would be impossible.

* * *

**Soo...*chuckles nervously*...hehheheh...I'm jut going to leave now.**


	6. Don Pachelli, Al, and Tony

**Before you kill me, know I had a hectic summer and in between the stuff happening and my bouts of laziness, it's not really my fault I've waited three months before doing anything. Well, it kind of is, but just ignore that part. So, accepting prompts again, so leave a review.**

**Prompt: **Roy's plans to make a quick buck with Dick and Wally on a party night goes awry.

Roy is 19, Dick 15, and Wally 17.

* * *

**Don Pachelli, Al, and Tony**

The guard arrived, his eyes droopy, his voice in a monotone, as if he was a drone. Which, in twenty years, wasn't ruled out, mused Robin.

"Your bail has been posted. You are free to go."

The guard didn't seem particularly happy or angry, but the next few seconds were ones of grave importance to the boys.

"Oh god, please not be Dinah. Please not be Dinah, please not be Dinah." prayed Roy under his breath. Wally, Roy, and Dick all let out huge sighs of relief, (except for Dick, because he was _Robin_ and Robin didn't sigh), when they say Green Arrow arrive before the iron bars. As the guard opened the cell to let them out, Oliver took one look at the goatee'd Wally, the mustached Dick, and an apparently brunette Roy.

"So, you want to run this by us again?" asked a befuddled Green Arrow.

_We may have a chance to get out of this after all._

* * *

"Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Of course. Don Pachelli has never been seen before, as far as anyone here is concerned, he may not even exist." replied Roy, coaxing on his two partners.

"I dunno. Isn't this placed a supposed money laundering hotspot?" asked Dick, who was not only equipped with a full on fake mustache, but body pads so as to give the appearance of extra body mass.

"Really Dick? You're going to be the one to chicken out on me?" asked Roy, feigning incredulity.

"This is not a good idea..." warned Wally again, he himself sporting a convincing but fake goatee, critical to his guise as "Al."

"Bah, relax. Stick with me, and this will be easy as pie."

And with those assuring words, Roy Harper, known on that particular night to the world as Tony, strode into the largest casino on San Ideno Island and walked right up to the chips desk, where he subsequently ordered several hundred dollars in chips for him and his "perfectly of age" friends. Although that was child's change for this casino, Dick hacked the camera system, and using that the three made quick work at the gambling tables, turning over huge profits. Within two hours the three of them had over ten thousand dollars in chips, which was spectacularly good, but also drew unwanted attention from the owners.

After refusing countless offers at drinks and to sign up for special club membership, the management obviously got agitated, and security guards appeared, helpfully "suggesting" that they remove themselves from the premises. This was the fun part.

"Don't you know who I am?" roared Dick in an overtly exaggerated Italian accent, the second one of the guards touched him with their beefy hands.

"What?" asked the manager, who had approached them.

"Oh man, you made him mad." stated Roy in mock fright.

"Now you've gone and done it." stated Wally, playing along.

"Get these goons out of here, now." ordered the manager.

"Goons? _Goons?!_ I'm Don Pachelli, you hear?! Whatsa' wrong with you? You dunno who your boss is?!" asked the 'Don', his voice getting deeper and louder with every word. Bruce had taught his adopted Son well.

"What? No, no." stated the manager, shaking his head. There was no way _that_ was Don Pachelli.

"No?! I should have you fired and thrown into the street. No, worse, I should have you popped off you pompous, good for nothing spaghetti sucking leech!" continued Dick, not anywhere near done iwth his tirade.

The manager looked much more worried now. If this _was_ Don Pachelli, then he was screwed.

"I'm sure if you are indeed, the respected Don, a little clarification and we can fix this all up-"

"Clarification? Tell you what, I'll go home, and tomorrow I'll send Al and Tony over here to come and pick you up and visit my 'special hiding spot', eh?" stated Dick'

'Tony' and 'Al' just looked at the manager with what they hoped where threatening glances.

"You know what, I'm outta here! Come tomorrow, you're behind better out of my casino, or your a dead man. You hear?" roared Dick as he left in a righteous fury, followed by his companions. They, of course, made sure to cash in at least some of their chips, turning a shiny dollar before deciding on their next move.

"Where to?" asked Wally. Roy shrugged, he hadn't really planned on leaving the Casino so early, and he was adamant not to return to Oliver's mansion until tomorrow morning. Because that would be a lame party-turned-fundraising-operation night.

Eventually, they decided that the perfectly reasonable thing to do would be to spend the night in one of the islands many hotels, rather than the giant 16 room mansion owned by Oliver. Of course, there was the small question of checking in without looking suspicious, but that was handled by a few tips from Dick and a short visit to a costume store, that resulted in Dick with a bushier mustache, Wally now sporting a full on beard, and Roy hosting brown hair.

You never know if anyone might come after you later.

"Jose. Jose Williams." stated Dick in a surprisingly good Spanish accent with a much deeper voice, his hands playing with his mustache and his gait resembling that of a grown man.

"Roy Ha-Hardy." stammered out Roy, sporting blonde hair and a goatee, that was "Not inspired by Oliver at all", to the previous laughter of his partners in crime.

"Bob, uh, Bobby. Bob Bobby." sputtered Wally in an entirely unconvincing manner. For a moment the three froze, fearing their cover had been blown.

"We need some I.D." stated the elderly desk clerk, clearly not amused by the odd trio arriving in the middle of the night. The boys relaxed a little, they'd covered this. Or rather, Dick had covered this after calculating which hotel would best accept their "I.D".

"I think this should cover the I.D." stated Dick, producing forth a few hundred dollar bills worth of cash that he inexplicably had on his person. The woman raised an eyebrow at the apparently very short man, before taking the cash. She would have her husband erase the security camera footage. One of the perks of a family run inn.

The three entered their room, and immediately all dashed for the only bed. As expected, Wally was first, but soon Roy and Dick were his bedmates, none of the three giving in and getting off the bed. A few shoving matches ensued, but the afternoon's events had worn them off, and eventually the three ended up passed out in the hotel room, sprawled across the bed.

But their peaceful slumber was quickly disturbed only hours later, as the first crack of dawn showered over the horizon. Or at least two of three slumbers were, as both Roy and Dick were awoken by the sound of their door kicked down.

"POLICE! Get down on the ground now!"

"Wha-" asked Roy, before being shoved to the floor.

Wally was out cold, even as he was cuffed and dragged out of the room, and Dick started sputtering out a rapid torrent of words in fluent Spanish, somehow sticking to his cover, and his mustache, despite having been woken up to a police raid.

"You are all under arrest for money laundering. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be held against you in the court of law..."

Apparently, as the boys would later find out, the casino had been under surveillance by local police officers, who had been waiting for months to snatch up Don Pachelli. As luck would have it, Dick played a very convincing mob boss.

* * *

"So, let me get this straight. The last thing any of you remember was drinking a weird milky white substance, before passing out and waking up here?"

All three boys nodded, giving their best looks of innocence. Sighing in defeat, Green Arrow gestured for them to follow him out. Dick almost smirked as they followed the older man out.

_Hah. If only Bruce were as gullible._

* * *

**Yea, that excuse is going to fall apart pretty soon, but, there you have it. R&R, and sorry for the absurdly long wait. And yes, my proofreading skills are negligible as ever, but meh, what can you do? Aside from not being lazy, but that's clearly not an option. **


End file.
